Page 18 of Wild Sanctuary

She’s been part of this place since she was six years old, trailing after Tom through the barn and asking why the Montana sky never seemed to end.

She’s the person Tom loved most in this world.

And I made him a promise.

That’s the whole goddamn problem. Because every time I look at her now, that promise gets heavier.

She’s a five-foot catastrophe with her father’s eyes and a body that makes me hate myself for noticing.

Nine years between us. When she was learning to ride, I was breaking horses. When she was graduating high school, I was burying my mother. We’ve shared the same dirt for twenty years but never the same world.

Daisy Monroe is not mine to want.

And she never will be.

The screen door creaks when I push it open, and every head in the room turns toward me.

“There he is,” Colt announces, not bothering to sit up. “We were starting to think you’d gotten lost between the barn and the house.”

“Thought about it,” I mutter, hanging my hat on the hook. “Changed my mind.”

“Dinner’s in twenty minutes.” June doesn’t look up from her flowers. “You can help me set the table.”

“Can’t wait.”

I make myself walk into the room like my blood isn’t running hot, like she isn’t the only thing in it I see. My hands are steady when I reach for the stack of plates because I will them to be. My stride is even because I force it to be.

My eyes go to the table, the chairs, the cutlery—anywhere but the strip of bare skin on her back. Anywhere that isn’t the way that dress clings to her waist like it was made for my goddamn hands.

I’ve spent thirty-five years perfecting this poker face, and one Sunday dinner isn’t going to break me.

Then Daisy Monroe looks at me and smiles, soft and easy, like she has no idea what she’s doing to me, and that poker face damn near shatters.

“Wyatt,” she murmurs. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”

“Told you dinner wasn’t optional.”

She grins brightly. “For me. I didn’t realize that applied to you too.”

Her eyes dance with humor. Or maybe a challenge. The same defiance I saw yesterday when she corrected me about her name, like she’s daring me to treat her like a child again.

Fuck, she’s pretty when she’s determined.

“House rules,” I manage. “June’s rules, specifically. Skip Sunday dinner and face the consequences.”

“The consequences being a guilt trip that lasts until the following Sunday,” Colt supplies helpfully. “Sometimes longer, if she’s really feeling creative.”

June throws a dish towel at his head. He catches it without looking, still grinning.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Daisy grins. Her eyes are still on me, warm and curious, before her phone chimes a notification in her hand. She glances down at the screen, and her lips draw tight for a moment until she smooths her expression before I can read it.

“Someone important?” Colt asks, because my brother has never met a boundary he didn’t want to stomp all over.

Daisy shrugs, tucking the phone into her pocket. “Just my ex. Checking in. We’re doing the friend thing, or whatever.”

The friend thing?

My back locks up.